


The Ways of the Hunt

by Morse_s Child (sherlockstummy)



Series: Werewolf Drabbles [4]
Category: Inspector Morse (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, could be morse/lewis if you squint, cowley cid wolfpack, some mention of blood, werewolf!lewis, werewolf!morse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockstummy/pseuds/Morse_s%20Child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis has been cooped up for far too long, Morse may or may not be hungry, and the younger wolf learns a thing or two about his guv.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ways of the Hunt

The call of the pack leader should be heeded by all wolves. Indeed, the other wolves raised their heads to the sky and howled. It was time for the hunt.

Morse bayed, but mostly because he was expected to. He had no interest in weighing himself down with the heavy, meaty caribou the pack was hunting tonight. The young wolves could barely eat it without feeling drowsy, including his sergeant, and Morse had better things to do than spend the evening sleeping.

The white wolf watched the pack assemble for the hunt, saw Lewis among the pack, yipping and barking, wagging their tails excitedly. Morse shook his head fondly and trotted off in the opposite direction.

Hunger had always been something to take lightly for him, and being a starving wolf had its benefits. His nose was aware of every scent, no matter its age, making him the perfect copper. 

Morse paused to listen. He could hear and smell fresh water, so he trotted off towards the stream. A small brook lit up in the moonlight, and Morse drank deeply until his stomach sloshed and the hunger-a side effect of transformation-faded. He could hear the pounding feet of the pack as they moved as one, a single unit, one heart beating at once. That had never suited him. He preferred his lonesome life, being left to his own thoughts. Even the pack’s telepathy became dizzying to him now, so he turned it off and darted away.

Morse knew the crime scene wasn’t far. It was a good twenty minute drive, but he could get there in five while sprinting and ten at a good clip. Morse lowered his head and tail, pushing his body harder. Age had drained his stamina and decreased his speed, but, he found, mind over matter was more important. He ran until his paws ached and the old limp stung. When he’d reached the scene, he took a few breaths, then pawed around on light feet, sniffing.

As expected, the corpse’s unique smell was lingering; he’d gotten a good whiff of it as a human, but the smell was more identifying now. But there was another scent here. Elderly gentleman; fifties, who put too much product in his hair. Morse sniffed at the footprints. Canvas shoes, waterproof trousers. Witness or killer? Morse paced a moment, trying to jog his memory. Lewis would know for sure; he’d taken statements at the scene. 

Morse decided to head back closer to the forest. The pack would be back from the hunt by now. He hoped to find his sergeant alone and in a slightly more energetic mood than usual.

Morse found Lewis trotting around anxiously. “Lewis!” He barked.

“Sir!” Lewis wagged his tail and trotted up to greet Morse, licking under his chin submissively. “Where did you go?”

“The crime scene.”

“Boy, that was fast!”

Morse chuckled. “Feeling energetic tonight, Lewis?”

“Yeah, come to think of it! Val had me cooped up inside during last leave.”

Morse affectionately butted Lewis’ head. “Can you tell me if there were any older gentlemen that the victim knew, pup?”

Lewis plopped his head on Morse’s back, tail wagging slowly close to the ground as he thought. Morse rested his head on Lewis’ shoulders, watching the young wolf. “Oh!” Lewis lifted his head slightly, then lay it back down, turning slightly to get a better look at his superior. “Victim’s mother said she knew someone. A fisherman, she thought. He owned a boat down by the river.”

Morse tilted his head thoughtfully. “Worth looking into. Well done, pup.” He licked Lewis affectionately and picked his head up. He was surprised to find Lewis unmoving; the young wolf wanted to talk more. “What is it, Lewis?”

“You worry me, Sir. You never eat with the pack.” Lewis whimpered, nestling under Morse’s chin. “I’m no use on an empty stomach. I don’t know how you get by.”

“I manage.” Morse said, surprised that Lewis gave it that much thought. “Why? Was the caribou good tonight?”

Lewis nodded. “It was. So sweet and smoky. I think you would have liked it, even though you are funny about blood.”

“It doesn’t bother me too much when it’s prey.” Morse admitted. Lewis was still nuzzling into his neck; it tickled. He chuckled warmly and began licking Lewis between the ears to calm his sergeant. “Lewis, I’m all right, you know. Being hungry doesn’t bother me like it does the others.”

“But you’re less irritable if you eat the night before.” Lewis replied. “And I know that’s just you anyway, Sir, but…”

Morse hummed. “Tell me about the hunt, then.”

Lewis flopped down at Morse’s feet and the old wolf lay beside him, resting his head on his paws. 

“Well?” Morse asked.

Lewis barked a laugh. “It was really good. This big buck, with crazy big antlers, led us all around rocks, zigging through trees, jumping logs. It was amazing! The Superintendent jumped on his back and bit hard and that was what took him down. He fell so gracefully, and we just all pounced and ate him up until the young constables were fighting over the bones.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It was! And like I said, the meat was wonderful. Fat and juicy; you could tell he was well-fed.” Lewis licked his lips. “I wish I’d gotten more of it. Talking about it makes me want more!”

Morse huffed a laugh. “Don’t tell the chief super. That’s the sort of behavior that will put you on leave.”

Lewis shivered. “I can’t take more leave! It’s hard being cooped up!”

“It’s nice letting the wolf out, isn’t it? I find it a relief myself.”

“But you never eat!”

“I used to take down deer all by myself.” Morse replied with a yawn. Even talking about the filling meat seemed to have a somnolent effect. Or maybe it was Lewis’ presence that relaxed him. He slept better as a wolf, overall. The form was more familiar and versatile than his human form. 

“You’re pulling my leg!” Lewis reached out to paw at his snout. 

Morse sat up, scratching his snout. “I did! Small ones, mind you, and does, but I did. I was a great jumper. Still am. Ever wonder why Superintendent Strange gives me labor-intensive cases?”

“Show me!” Lewis jumped up, wagging his tail. “Oh, uh,” he came close, licking under Morse’s chin. “Please, sir?”

Morse smiles fondly. He couldn’t resist his pup asking nicely. Lewis probably knew that by now. “All right. We’ll split the kill. But if Strange asks, it was my buck. I’m serious, Lewis. You can’t be caught eating more than your share.”

“Fine, fine! What’s got you following the rules all of a sudden?”

Morse laughed. “It’s so I don’t lose you, pup. Now, come on.”


End file.
